Ipod Challenge
by Naranne
Summary: Ten drabbles to ten songs, a different pairing every chapter. A refresher to get me past writer's block; I think it helped. Chapter two: Contestshipping.
1. Pokeshipping

**A/N: **You know the drill: ten drabbles written within the time frame of ten different songs. Let's see how I did, shall we?

**Disclaimer: **I don't own Pokemon.

_

* * *

_

_All We Know (Album Version) – Paramore_

Misty glared at the raven-haired trainer before her. "Is this what you really want?"

Ash met her glare for glare, sparks flying between the two 'best-friends'. "There's nothing I'd like more, Misty; besides, you're the one that's always, always, wanted to leave."

"Is _that_ what you think?" the red-head snapped, outraged and more than a little concerned—did it all mean nothing to him? Couldn't he _see_ how much he meant to her? Did he _really_ not understand?

"Yes! That _is_ what I think!"

"Ashton Ketchum, you are _the_ most dense person I have ever, _ever_, had the misfortune to meet—"

Seeing Misty going into a full blown rant, not wanting her to leave and not being able to think of any other way to stop her, Ash did perhaps the bravest—and best—thing he had ever done. He leaned over, and desparately kissed her.

* * *

_Ain't No Way – Aretha Franklin_

"Friends forever, right, Mist?" he asked her, the sadness in his voice mixing with an awful finality, as she comprehended the double meaning of his words—_we're never going to work, Misty._

She nodded, somehow feeling at a loss for words.

"Misty?" he ventured, hating the way her usually ever-so-strong blue eyes were filled with a sadness and vulnerability that was _all his fault_. _I swear it's not like it seems, Mist,_ he thought to himself. _But I'd only hurt you; I don't want to do that to you. I swear I love you._

"No, I get it, Ash," she murmured, lifting her head to meet his eyes. "Friends forever."

She could have sworn she imagined it, it was that quiet—but Misty could have sworn he whispered under his breath, "I'm sorry". And despite everything, when he grabbed her arms and pulled her into a rough hug, she was powerless to resist, folding herself into his hold and clinging to his chest like he was the last thing keeping her sane.

* * *

_Buckbeak's Flight – John Williams_

Ash watched with pride as Noctowl soared into battle, relishing the feeling of being one with his Pokémon and knowing they were nigh unstoppable. He grinned, knowing that most trainers failed to comprehend the one thing that made a great Pokémon and trainer team was the bond that human and Pokémon shared; you could not win if one mistrusted the other.

Shouting with glee as a few swift attacks brought down his opponent's Pokémon and he was declared the winner, he looked to the sidelines, where his best friends, Misty and Brock, sat. For a moment, his and Misty's eyes connected, and he felt something more profound than Pokémon, than training, and it took him a moment to recognise it: love.

* * *

_Dialmentia – Tim Davies Big Band_

Misty tossed in her sleep, a frightened shout escaping her lips. In her dreams she ran, ran, never stopping, always running from the nameless menace that threatened to overwhelm her, to consume her, to never let her see the light of day again. Tossing and turning, she sought that elusive being: restful sleep, always out of reach, haunted by nightmares.

From the bed across from hers in the small room in the Pokémon Centre, dark, chocolate-brown eyes watched her worriedly. Each time she turned, each time she cried out, icy claws dragged at Ash's heart, worry for his best friend and the girl he had long held secret feelings for haunting him. He warred with himself, the desire to go to her and chase away the demons that haunted her sleep nearly overwhelming the sense of caution he felt: the thought of Misty waking to find him at her side, or, heaven forbid, in her _bed _was not a pleasant one; he had received one too many bruises for him not to be cautious.

She cried out again, one hand flinging up as if to shoo away some invisible demon, and the decision was made for him. Quietly rushing out of his bed to her side, he whispered, "Misty, wake up, it's just a dream—it's me, Ash!"

She didn't seem to hear him, for she cried, "No! Don't – no!"

He ran a hand over her arm in an attempt to soothe her, making shushing noises, and panicking, wondering what on earth had caused her so much distress. He started when he realised the action seemed to have some effect on her, as her tossing ceased, although she still moaned in fright.

"Hush, Misty," he whispered, stroking her hair and arm.

Her eyes shot open. "A—Ash?" she whispered.

Ash froze, yanking his arm back.

However, the next thing he knew, Misty had leaned out of bed and engulfed him in a hug, wrapping her shaking arms around his torso. Ash hestitantly returned the embrace, relaxing as he realised she had calmed, and vowing not to let whatever had frightened her so come to pass.

* * *

_Crushcrushcrush – Paramore_

Misty hated to admit it, but for once in her life, she felt as if she knew what her sisters felt, why they dressed they way they did, why they loved the spotlight. _She_ was loving it, the attention, and Mew, whoever had created the dress she was wearing deserved to be praised eternally. Dancing in the middle of the dancefloor, the short black mini really revealing far more than was absolutely necessary, she caught the eye of her long-time boyfriend Ash Ketchum and winked.

More than anything she _loved_ the effect she could still have on him—and this outfit proved it. Sauntering up to him, she grinned and wrapped her arms about his neck. "What's the matter, Ashy-boy?" she teased, noticing how he gaped at her and blushed.

He grinned in reply. "Mew, Misty, whoever sent you to me deserves eternal praise."

* * *

_Journey to the Cemetery – Andrew Lloyd Webber_

They haunted her, the memories, always there, always watching, laughing, mocking her, how everything had ended so cruelly, so abruptly. Misty Waterflower, the current reigning Water Pokémon Master—oh, how they loved to mock her, as if to remind her that now, her title was nothing. Kneeling, desolate and lonely in front of the cold, grey, gravestone, she ran her hands over the engraving.

_Ash Ketchum_

_Beloved husband and father and friend_

_Youngest Pokémon Master_

_He will be forever in our hearts_

_May he rest in peace_

Letting the sobs overtake her, she clenched her jaw, willing herself not to crumble, willing herself to continue, knowing that Ash would want her to live her life, even though he was gone, even though she had loved him with all her heart. She placed the bouquet of flowers in front of the gravestone and let the tears run unchecked, cursing whatever ill fate had taken him from her, and she crumpled.

* * *

_In the Midnight Hour – Wilson Pickett_

Misty grinned and clinked her glass against that of her best-friend and boyfriend, Ash Ketchum, a toast to their friend Brock's engagement, even though they had only eyes for each other, happy as they were for the notorious flirt finally settling down.

Around them, couples were taking to the dancefloor, following the example of Brock and Suzy, and Ash stood, wrapping his arms around Misty and resting his chin on her head.

"As happy as I am for those two," he murmured for only her ears, "you look _so damned good_ that I can't_ wait _to get you home."

And the heat in his voice made her shiver agreeably.

* * *

_I Caught Myself – Paramore_

Misty knew she shouldn't want him, knew it was wrong, but she couldn't stop herself. He _has a fiancee_, was a mantra she repeated over and over, and yet, even though she knew the girl he was engaged to was a one-time friend of her own, she couldn't help it. When they spent time alone together, just the two of them, and he would whisper to her that if he could he _would—_that his engagement would be cancelled, a matter of politics and business as it was.

Now, in the cirlce of his arms, cuddled up to his chest, she could let her guard down, and for a moment—one blessed moment—forget all that damned their relationship, and pretend that he was hers and hers alone.

The words slipped out before she could stop them. "I love you, Ash Ketchum," she whispered to him, against his chest, under the blankets in her bed in Cerulean, far from his home and his fiancee.

He held her tighter and she could feel him sigh. "I know, Mist. I know."

* * *

_I Never Loved A Man (The Way That I Love You) – Aretha Franklin_

"Stupid, moronic, ungrateful, bastard!" Misty screamed through her angry tears, punching her pillow with as much force as she could muster, flopping down onto her bed with a muffled angry cry. _I hate you, Ash, I really do_, she thought angrily, thinking of several ways to make him experience several unpleasantries.

However, the object of her thoughts did not seem to take a hint. Leaning against the doorway of her bedroom, he eyed her. "That wasn't nice."

Ducking the pillow she threw at him, he knew that deep down she cared, and so he laughed, ducking another pillow and scampering from the room, blowing her a kiss over his shoulder.

* * *

_You Can't Stop The Beat – Hairspray_

The party was in full swing; people cheered as couples went up onto the dance floor, determined to outdo the one that had preceded them. Music blared, and the lights flashed; the atmosphere was brilliant, catchy, uplifting, and the trio lounging around a small table near the dancefloor were loving it. None of them considered themselves dancers—Brock was currently swooning over the sight of Nurse Joy and Officer Jenny conversing in a far corner, whilst Ash and Misty were bantering playfully, both wanting to ask the other to dance, yet both being too afraid.

However, Pikachu was the one to break the ice. Becoming increasingly frustrated, he snatched from Ash's head the hat he had refused to take off even at a party, and had scampered onto the dance floor, after stealing the hairtie that held Misty's red locks in place.

Both teens rushed onto the dancefloor after the electric rodent, however, after having reclaimed their items from Pikachu, they found no reason to leave—the music was catchy, the atmosphere fun, and suddenly they found themselves dancing together—albeit not as couples would—and neither had had to break out of their nervousness.

Ash grinned at his long-time best friend, catching her by surprise as he grabbed her by the arm and spun her in a circle, eliciting a squawk of outrage as she nearly stumbled, only to be saved by Ash's arms closing about her waist and lifting her back on her feet. "Watch it, Mist," he teased.

Immaturely, she poked her tongue out at him, and, having broached the barrier once, he pulled her into his arms, dancing with her close. The two friends revelled in the closeness, knowing that for now the bond they shared was enough.

* * *

**A/N: **Well, that was fun. Some were challenging, and I don't think any are up to the standard I expect of myself, but there we go. A small something to get me past writer's block.

- Naranne.


	2. Contestshipping

**A/N: **More meaningless, light, iPod stuff that no-one reads but is fun to write! ^_^

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Pokémon. I can dream, though, right?

_

* * *

_

_Under The Boardwalk – _The Drifters

"Ice-cream, May?"

The brunette paused, unable to believe what she'd heard—if she was not mistaken, one particular rival co-ordinator had just _spoken_ to her. Had been _civil_, no less—had the world gone mad? As it was she whirled, about to demand what he was playing at, only to find the green-haired co-ordinator already had two ice-creams in hand, and was shoving one toward her.

"Don't look so stunned. I know, I know—in the presence of someone as great as I, with you being the way you are, it's hard not to look shocked, but do try."

So the world hadn't gone mad.

Drew flicked his hair, smirking at her, holding out the chocolate ice-cream to her, which was already starting to melt in the blazing afternoon sun. Raising an eyebrow at her rival, she took it.

* * *

_Tramp –_ Otis Redding and Carla Thomas

"Why you insufferable, inconsiderate, stuffy, annoying, up-yourself jerk!"

May was _livid_. The fire blazed in her eyes, and her hands were balled into fists. Drew walked beside her, placid as ever, thoroughly enjoying the effect that he still could have on her—even after years, it seemed that a few well placed insults were still all it took to rile May up. Indeed, if he were to be frank, he would almost say that he had refined the sport of May-taunting to an _art._

He let her go on for several more moments, before he decided he had had his fun—surely he should do the girl a favour, and let her rest? All that yelling _must _have been tiring her out.

He turned to her, gave her his trademark smirk, flipped his hair, and quipped, "Do you know how _cute_ you are when you're angry, May?"

He enjoyed her stunned silence almost as much as he enjoyed her rage, and chuckled to himself as he walked off, tossing her a rose over his shoulder.

* * *

_Shine A Light – _The Rolling Stones

He didn't know how it had come to this—the last time he had seen her, she had been full of life, just as she had always been, readily angered at his choice insults, full of fire and energy and everything that made her _May. _And then he had seated himself in the lobby of the Pokémon Centre—the news had been playing, and he had hardly been able to believe what he was seeing.

Why, he wondered, willing Flygon to carry him there faster, did these things always happen to the most good-hearted of people?

The accident—a car crash—could quite possibly have robbed her of the chance of a normal life, but Drew found he could not be more thankful to the wonders of modern medicine as he sat beside her hospital bed, staring at her peaceful, sleeping, face, his gaze flicking from her to the heart monitor and back again.

Hoping that she would not choose that instant to wake—and instantly feeling selfish—he took one of her small, slender hands within his own, fervently hoping none of her friends would be there to see, as he lifted it and grazed his lips across her knuckles once. Squeezing her hand as he placed it back down, he whispered to her, "I know you'll be alright, May. You have to be—who else is there that can compete with me?"

* * *

_Come So Far (Got So Far To Go) – _Hairspray

Sometimes it amazed him how much of a kid she could let herself be, even as one of the most successful co-ordinators the Hoenn region had known, even though she was now almost an adult, at the age of sixteen. He realised, as he stood, leaning on the railings, watching her race and tumble with her brother and her friends, that this was the very same beach where he had first met her.

Drew smirked, allowing himself a momentary nostalgic flashback, reliving moments of all the years he had known her—as a rival, and he hoped, somewhat recently, as a friend. He chuckled to himself, fingering the thornless rose he held in one hand, as underneath his gaze she tripped, falling, before picking herself up and brushing the sand from her clothes, laughing all the while.

He was about to turn away when she turned to race Max in the other direction, and chanced to glance up at where he stood. Their eyes connected for a moment; he flicked his hair and smirked. In reply, instead of the angry glare he would have gotten when they first met, she grinned at him, almost challenging him, and as he noted the spark in her blue eyes something thrilled through him which he could not quite name.

* * *

_Hallelujah – _Paramore

Resolutely, May gathered her possessions, cramming what little she had into the few bags she had arrived with, determined not to let anything stop her.

She had made her decision—she had given him enough chances, and that night had been the final straw. There was nothing stopping her now. Giving her room a final once-over, she nodded to herself, and shut the door behind her quietly, determined not to wake anyone. Creeping to the front door, she let herself look behind one last time, before placing the note she had written on the doorstep.

It was only when she was out of the door that she let the tears roll unashamedly down her cheeks.

* * *

_Share Your Love With Me – _Aretha Franklin

May had never told anyone—not even Max, not even Ash, Brock, Misty, or her mother—but she had kept every single rose that Drew had ever gifted her with. Even the ones given in order to quieten her, to spite her; all had been kept until the life had drained from them, kept in a vase on the very top shelf of her cupboard at home, or, when she was travelling, in a special pocket on the inside of her bag.

Often she would catch herself thinking of these collected roses—and the infuriating boy who had given them to her—and wondering whether they really _were_ all for her Pokémon. Immediately after, however, she would scold herself, telling herself that she most definitely did not think of him in that way.

One such time, she was drifting, lost in memories, when she was pulled out of her reverie by the very object of her thoughts. As he walked past, Drew smirked, threw her a rose, and quipped, "Another for the collection!"

May was left to wonder how on earth he had known.

* * *

_Accidentally In Love – _Counting Crows

It was never meant to happen.

But then, May rationalized, these things barely ever started out intentionally. Sure, he _had_ intended to give her roses—but she was sure that he had never intended for those roses to actually take on the meaning they were given.

She had never intended to rise to the bait; it had always been subconcious.

She guessed, however, that he had always intended to goad her, but never quite planned her reactions.

She knew, was absolutely certain, that when they had parted, and he had pressed a rose into her hand as he headed for the Sinnoh region, that he had never intended to kiss her.

But he had.

She had never intended to kiss him back.

But she had.

They'd never intended to fall for one another—but they had, and they were loving it.

* * *

_Hey There Delilah – _Plain White T's

Somehow, even when he was far away, she would catch herself thinking about him. She would roll into her sleeping bag after dark, having bid the others goodnight, and almost subconciously she would remember the moments they had shared.

The infuriating way he would smirk at her and flick his hair.

The way he would insist the roses he gave her were not for her—"How can you be so self-absorbed, May?" he would laugh—but for her Pokémon; the way he had cutely blushed the one time when he had nearly admitted they were for her, and had walked away with a blush painting his cheeks.

Reminding herself forcefully that there was no way that he was thinking about her, at least not the way she was thinking about him, she forced her eyelids to close, and drifted off to sleep.

Miles away, a green-haired co-ordinator twirled a thornless rose between his fingers, gazing up at the stars and thinking of the young girl who had become a permanent fixture in his life.

* * *

_For A Pessimist, I'm Pretty Optimistic – _Paramore

He couldn't understand why she did not realise that beneath the attitude, beneath the snide comments and continuous insults, he genuinely cared for her.

She couldn't understand why he did not just face the music and admit to her that he was just fumbling along, content to give her roses and pretend he didn't care.

He was sick of giving her hints, sick of the way she doted on her friends, and sick of how he was jealous that he would never be included.

She was sick of waiting for him to make the first move.

Finally, they both snapped.

There was a desparation when it happened. It had meant to be just a congratulations from him to her, a gift of a rose like so many other times; instead, she had slapped him across the face, leaving a large red handprint on his cheek. He had stood there, hurt, not understanding, and unable to summon the cocky attitude she knew him for. Finally, finally, sick of it, fighting the sting of tears, she had grabbed him roughly, pulled him to her, and kissed him.

* * *

_Bad Reputation _– Halfcocked

May was _hungry_. She did not care that Brock and Max were staring at her, wide-eyed, as she downed any of the food she could reach—or that to her left, Ash was acting exactly the same. Did they not understand that a day of strenuous training and then a contest, to boot, could make a girl absolutely starving?

It was when she was sinking her teeth into a particularly greasy chicken leg, of course, that he arrived. He took a moment to evaluate the situation before him, before he laughed. He flipped his hair. "Good to see you're—ah—enjoying the _spoils of victory_, May."

Drew smirked, tossing her a rose, before walking away to his own table.

May's face flamed.

* * *

**A/N: **That was actually kind of hard. T_T

Still rather fun, though!

Fear not, I have another oneshot almost done, and ideas for another two in mind. :)

- Naranne


End file.
